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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509050">The Darkness You Left Me To</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowmcfellow/pseuds/yellowmcfellow'>yellowmcfellow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Angst but it's Dream SMP [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Broken, Canon Fundy, Canon Wilbur, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Tommy, Mention of Tubbo - Freeform, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, l'manberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:28:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29509050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowmcfellow/pseuds/yellowmcfellow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Every weekend Fundy goes to his deceased father's grave and speaks to him while reminiscing about the past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fundy and Ghostbur, Wilbur Soot &amp; Fundy, Wilbur Soot &amp; Sally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Angst but it's Dream SMP [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216448</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Darkness You Left Me To</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's 12:00 AM. I have a really bad tendency of starting these fics at this time. </p><p>A quick disclaimer in case you didn't see it in the tags! This fanfic is about Canon Wilbur and Canon Fundy, not the actual ccs. Please keep that in mind.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Fundy couldn't remember Sally well. He couldn't remember the way she smiled; couldn't remember the way she laughed, nor the sound of her laugh. The only thing he remembered is that Sally used to laugh a lot. Wilbur used to joke about it before she died - "she took all my laughter!" - a joke that fell flat as Fundy realised how true it is.<br/>
Fundy remembered Wilbur just fine. He could see in mind's eye the rages Wilbur would fly into and then the days he would spend lying in bed reeking of beer and misplaced love. He remembered just how hard the front door would slam shut as Wilbur stalked away from the house for weeks. Those were the weeks Fundy liked and disliked most. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sometimes Fundy wished that Wilbur had died instead of Sally. Try as he might, he didn't regret those thoughts.</em>
</p><p>Fundy walks through the dark graveyard. He doesn't stop for anything, not past the lavish gravestone of a dead president and definitely not past the people bent at other graves weeping. He doesn't stop until he gets to a small round gravestone, the engravings covered by moss and neglect. Cold fingers fumbled at the moss until they'd pulled it off and revealed the engraving underneath it: <em>Wilbur Soot, loving husband, father, brother, and terrorist.</em> </p><p>Fundy has never cried at Wilbur's grave. He'd watched with dry eyes at Wilbur's funeral as others around him gave his grave flowers and told of the good times. For Fundy, there were no good times for a long time. The good times were before Sally died. Fundy remembers dancing with Sally and dancing with Wilbur. He remembers Wilbur teaching him how to fish. Fundy remembers those times because they were the only good times he had. </p><p>"Hey, Wilbur," he murmurs. "I'm back again." </p><p>Fundy has forgotten when he stopped calling Wilbur 'dad' and started calling him 'Wilbur.' </p><p>He also doesn't know why he visits Wilbur's grave every weekend and doesn't even glance at Sally's grave next to Wilbur's. He doesn't know why he talks to someone who is dead and someone who Fundy is glad is dead. It's stupid and he knows it. He talks to someone who will never give him a reply, even if they had been alive. And that hurts. </p><p>Fundy doesn't miss Wilbur but he misses who Wilbur used to be. </p><p>
  <em>There was one day, actually. The calm before the storm. Wilbur had come back home in a good mood. For once, he didn't smell like alcohol and some lady's perfume. Fundy had watched him, wary and confused. He had been feeling those emotions a lot lately. Wilbur had walked up to him and said, "do you want to go out to eat?" and Fundy had almost cried right then and there. But he didn't. He had nodded mutely and waited for Wilbur to change his mind. But he didn't. He'd taken Fundy out to Sally's favourite restaurant, the restaurant Fundy remembered they used to go to all the time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Used to. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wilbur had sat Fundy down at their usual spot and let Fundy order what he wanted. Then, as if nothing had happened between them, he'd asked gruffly, "how are you?" and Fundy had felt a surge of rage and he had wanted to yell, "how the hell do you think I am? You left me! You fucking left me!" but he had been young and stupid and he'd thought that maybe times would change. So he said instead, "I'm okay. Tired." and Wilbur had nodded as if he'd understood. As if he'd help. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They'd sat in silence for most of the meal but Fundy hadn't minded. Fundy thought that Wilbur had realised he'd done wrong and wanted to make it up to him. So he'd smiled weakly and Wilbur had grimaced back. And after they ate and Wilbur paid they went home and watched a movie. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The next day, Wilbur disappeared and came back a week later worse than before. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Out of all the days Fundy had to endure with Wilbur, that day when they went out to eat was the one he hated to most. The day that gave him false hope.</em>
</p><p>"It's been a busy week. I'm sure you'd understand," Fundy tells Wilbur's grave, eyes fixated on the engraving that told him that Wilbur had been a loving father. Fundy, like every other time he finds himself in front of this grave, wonders what he's doing. Wonders why he bothers. Wonders why he's never talked to Sally, the one who really loved him. "Tubbo is doing okay with the presidency. We've been rebuilding." He lets out a rueful laugh. "You'd lose your shit at that. Rebuilding the very thing you swore to destroy."</p><p>Fundy stares down at the overgrown grass adorning the grave. "I should do some gardening," he tells Wilbur, then laughs again. "Sally would like that, wouldn't she...?"</p><p>
  <em>Everyone said that Wilbur went mad. Fundy supposes that that's both true and false. Wilbur was always mad, something Fundy knew well enough. But mad enough to blow up the country he built on his own blood and tears? </em>
</p><p><em>Times had gotten better and worse. Wilbur had stopped drinking altogether. He had almost been sane. But he had seemed to forget about the son he'd left behind as he went out for longer and longer, returning only for a day and even then paying no attention to the one person who needed it most. The only reason Fundy had known that Wilbur was planning on building a country with his brother was the documents he would find and collect like treasures.</em> L'Manberg. <em>Wilbur had called it his unfinished symphony. Fundy had wondered more than once if Wilbur ever thought about the unfinished symphony that was his son.</em></p><p>"You've always puzzled me, Wilbur," Fundy continued, eyes trailing over the cracked stone. "Why build a country only to tear it down? Why have a son only to break him?" </p><p>
  <em>One day, Wilbur had stopped coming home completely, so Fundy went to find him. It was obvious where he was - somewhere with Tommy, laughing and planning the great country Fundy hated so much. Fundy had found him at Tommy's little house doing exactly what he was expecting. Wilbur had looked at him quizzically. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Those days, Wilbur stopped hating his son but he also stopped caring about his son. He stopped acknowledging Fundy's existence. Fundy didn't know which one was worse. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fundy had asked Tommy if he could excuse them for a moment. Wilbur had looked annoyed but went along. Once they were out of earshot, Fundy had hissed, "what are you doing?" And Wilbur had replied, "planning my symphony," in a calm tone that had enraged Fundy. "What about the symphony you left at home?" He'd asked and Wilbur had paused. Then he'd hardened and responded, "L'Manberg needs me."</em>
</p><p>Fundy looked down at the casket where Wilbur was buried. "I like to think, sometimes, that you blew up L'manberg for me. That you've always known how much I hated that awful land that took you away from me. But I know that isn't the truth." He placed his hand on the casket. "But enough about me. How are you doing?" And he listened like there would be an answer. </p><p>
  <em>Fundy had yelled, "what about me? I need you!" And Wilbur had said, "L'Manberg needs me more." Fundy then had whispered, "that's not true. I need you so much more."</em>
</p><p>Fundy glances up and sees Ghostbur hovering near him, looking shy. Ghostbur is what is left of his father. Ghostbur can't remember how he'd treated Fundy when he was alive. The only reason he can't is because he doesn't want to and they both know it. </p><p>Fundy hates Ghostbur more than he hates Wilbur. </p><p>
  <em>Wilbur had replied, "I need L'Manberg, Fundy." And just like that, Fundy had understood.</em>
</p><p>Ghostbur floats over to Fundy. "I saw you sitting by this grave looking sad... so I bought you blue! Look! Have some blue!" And he pushes it into Fundy's hands. Fundy, without missing a beat, throws the blue onto the grass and Ghostbur follows his eyes to the grave and reads the words 'Wilbur Soot'. "Oh." He says, turning to Fundy. Fundy stares at the stark blue wound in the middle of Ghostbur's stained yellow jumper and doesn't say anything. </p><p><em>Fundy had returned home after that. He couldn't bear to look at Tommy's soft eyes staring at him with pity, couldn't bear the pitiful look Wilbur had in</em> his <em>eyes, the look that told him he would always be second to L'Manberg. So he went home. Just like Wilbur never did.</em></p><p>"Fundy?" Ghostbur asked softly. </p><p>
  <em>And just like that, Wilbur was gone. A stranger. And Fundy had known he would have to join L'Manberg at some point and he had known that he'd have to side with Wilbur - his father, his foe.</em>
</p><p>Fundy closed his eyes. </p><p>
  <em>Wilbur had called him a few weeks after that, a hint of glee in his voice that Fundy had never heard since Sally's death. He excitedly told Fundy, his son, that his unfinished symphony was almost finished. All that needed to happen was his presidency. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The unfinished symphony he'd left at home said nothing.</em>
</p><p>For the first time since going to Wilbur's grave, Fundy cried.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short lil oneshot :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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